


In the Face of Death

by SapphireSassenach



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:29:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6241078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireSassenach/pseuds/SapphireSassenach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anon from tumblr: Hi! Could you write something like Jamie missing Claire and wanting to be with her but he can't for some reason</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Face of Death

Jamie stood tall, back straight and chin held high. The air was thick with the scent of death and desperation. Men shuffled to their end, chained by iron and words of their enemies. Their hopeless eyes stared off into the distance, not seeing the faces of the guards or of their fellow inmates, but of their regrets and their lost dreams.

Jamie saw. His eyes wide open to the reality of his death, yet his body wasn’t ready to surrender. He wanted to _fight_ , to be shot down in protest rather than dangle and shake from a rope like his acquaintance.

The feet of MacQuarrie dangled in front of him as the guards pulled his body down to finish the job the noose hadn’t.

He took a deep breath in, one of his last precious breaths on this earth, and he remembered.

 

_Solid weight on top of him, opening his eyes to the bonnie lass sitting on his chest, cursing him for not telling her of his injury. Her white face making him lose him breath and shake from intense feeling._

 

The grim of the days past laid thick on him, mud and dust caked on his body, a physical reminder of the hell that had been his last month.

 

_The queer feeling that ran up and down his spine as he held the Sassenach against his chest as she wept for her lost husband. His hands holding her, trying desperately to take away the pain in her lost eyes._

“James Fraser,” the Lobsterback called. He closed his eyes.

 

_Claire, standing in the gardens of Leoch, picking herbs as he watched from afar. The sunlight bringing out so many colors in her wild curls. One disobedient stray lock running down the graceful, pale slope of her neck._

 

Two of the guards walked towards him.

 

_Her clammy, shaking hands held tight in his, clutching him for support as the priest read the words that would bring them together forever._

 

They grabbed him by the shoulders and the hatred for everything overflowed in his mind. He wrapped his chained hands around the one redcoat in front of him, trying desperately to take back what had been lost. He had to _fight,_ Claire wouldn’t forgive him if he didn’t try to fight for them.

 

_The feeling of being touched by god as he came together with her for the first time. Feeling her tight around him, sheltering his need._

 

A blunt force hit him from behind. The guard’s gun swung into the back of his head, making him lose his grips on the other.

 

_Waking up to her curls in his face, tickling his nose. Brushing her hair back and memorizing her slumbering face, as precious as any treasure to him._

 

A swift blow to his gut almost brought him to his knees as they got a hold of him again. Facing him towards death.

_Her tongue, stroking and rubbing, as she took him into her mouth._

One foot forward, the chains that bound him shaking and hissing as his enemies pushed.

_Her warmth. The heat of her skin as he ran his lips up her milky thigh, delighting in the sight of little bumps breaking out all over her skin, giving away her excitement. The small, tender noises she made when he loved her._

 

They pushed him onto the stairs. The splintered wood cut into his feet as he took the first step.

 

_Her tears as she ran to him, leaving behind that fateful hill, clutching onto him as if she would die if he ever let her go._

 

A push from the back made him stumble his way up to the platform where his fellow solider hung, finally still in death. Jamie mumbled a prayer for his soul. His hands shook as the hangman stepped towards him.

 

_Waking up the first morning at Lallybroch, in the Larid’s room, with Claire tucked into his side, her breath brushing his neck in comforting whispers._

 

The noose hung in front of him, a simple rope that would tear him away from his heart and soul.

 

_Hearing those euphonic words come from her mouth as she professed her love for him for the first time, solidifying their bond as something nothing could never break._

 

His chest was tight as the man guided the rope over his head. A dhia. He prayed Claire would forgive him for this. His heart raced and his palms sweat.

 

_Her taste of sorrow as she clung to him for the last kiss they would ever share. Her hands and body saying what her words did not. Come back. I need you. I can’t do without you anymore._

 

Tears threatened to betray him as he felt the noose tighten around his neck. What would she do, when she found out about his death?

Would she feel like a piece was ripped from her body? Would she collapse to her knees in grief? That’s how he felt at the prospect of never getting to hold her again, never seeing her again. He clenched his hands to keep them from shaking. To keep them from seeing his pain and fear.

The ragged edges of his missing heart tore at his mind and body. A hand tightened on his shoulder, ready to push him off the cliff of oblivion and into an unknown world.

_Whiskey eyes held his in a promise. He could almost hear her whisper to him, one last time._

_“I’m here. Don’t be afraid. I will be with you always.”_

 

Jamie held onto his wife’s face and voice as blood rushed to his head, making him feel like he was underwater. The courtyard of men disappearing until all he saw was Claire’s face.

“Stop! Stop the execution!”


End file.
